Dealing with Monsters
by Bemused Writer
Summary: Before Vanitas met Noé he tried out a few other "shields" while working with Dante. The only consistency is that they all fail. Vanitas could lose himself in this. Takes a look at what Vanitas may have gotten up to before he met Noé and the consequences of it. Also covers Vanitas's outlook on chapters 1-23.


**Author's Notes:** I'm labeling this an AU because while it's covering several canon events in the manga toward the end it does alter a few minor details for the sake of the plot and I'm sure the majority of what I've come up with for his backstory will be radically different from what we end up getting in the manga. Despite that, I hope it makes for an interesting read! If you have any questions or concerns about the tags feel free to ask me on Tumblr.

* * *

Footsteps dashed across cobblestone streets and gasping breaths filled the air. It was raining and there was a full blue moon above him. His foot splashed loudly in a puddle, a result of the torrential downpour around him. A whine of anguish ripped itself from his chest.

He dashed into an alleyway and hid behind a few crates. He was shivering uncontrollably, his fear doing nothing to distract him from the chill in the air.

"She's gone, she's gone, she's gone…" he said over and over, the mantra doing nothing to convince him that it was true. He didn't know how long he'd been running. He'd been on the outskirts of civilization until he hadn't.

He looked at the possessions he snagged when he'd run away: an hourglass charm and the _Book of Vanitas_ itself. They were clutched tightly to his chest. She would never have them again.

His parched lips split into a painful grin but he couldn't stop. He'd gotten away; he was _free._

He'd need to pick a new name. He needed to form a new life. He would do it. No matter what it took he would realize his revenge against that woman who had taken so much from him.

For now though he leaned against the crate heavily and tried to ignore how uncomfortable it was to have sopping wet clothing.

"Hey, are you all right?"

He looked up sharply. It was a teen, probably around his age. He had a little bat fluttering at his shoulder. His eyes narrowed: a dhampir.

"What's your name?"

A name. His first order of business. But what did he want? He would never be a number again, he refused to be that. But the name he used to go by before he lost his family was too innocent. It hurt to think about. But what would do? What could represent who he was now?

And then he knew. The dhampir backed off slowly; he must have looked rather manic with his shaking shoulders, his minimal possessions, and his knife-like grin.

"I go by Vanitas."

The dhampir pointed him toward a shelter he could stay at for the night and left hastily afterwards, seemingly content to wipe his hands of the affair.

Vanitas spent the remainder of that year pick pocketing and doing odd jobs to finance lodging and food although he had no qualms about stealing some of that if he needed to. On rare occasions he would indulge those who found him attractive if they paid enough. He slowly built himself up until he began to resemble the person he needed to be to achieve vengeance.

He began looking for contacts in the winter and quickly discovered that information brokers were notoriously dhampirs. He set up a meeting with one named Dante at a local café to see if they'd be compatible. He took a seat at one of the outdoor tables so he wouldn't miss him even though it was chilly.

When Dante laid eyes on him he immediately looked as though he regretted every life decision leading up to that point.

"It's you!" he exclaimed in horror.

Vanitas took a sip of tea. He had no idea what he was prattling on about and he wasn't about to engage.

Dante slumped over slightly but managed to drag himself over to the chair across from him and sat in it forlornly.

"I'm Dante. And you're Vanitas, right?"

Vanitas blinked. Did he have a reputation already? He hadn't done much to earn it yet.

"That's right. How…?"

"We met once before. I guess you weren't in any state to remember me though. Well, whatever. You seem to be doing better now."

It seemed extremely unlikely that Dante had ever met him but Vanitas didn't care much one way or another. Most likely he had done his job and investigated him beforehand. Still, if the initial impression had been bad he'd have to sort that out right away.

"Oh? Well then, my dear Dante, I am glad we have met once more! My apologies for forgetting such a noble face!" Dante's eyes crinkled irritably. Maybe Vanitas was laying it on too thick.

"But getting back to business, what do you say to my proposal?"

"Sounds fine," Dante shrugged. "If you can pay then I'll help you out. You want information, right?"

"Not just information." Vanitas leaned in, a wicked grin formed on his face. "I would like you to assist me on the occasional excursion as well. I see you're armed already, so you must have some skills. Well?"

"You want a bodyguard? That's not really something I do."

"Come now, I'd pay you. You'd make more doing that than just giving me the occasional bit of information. Surely that would be fair?"

"Just how much trouble are you planning on getting into?" Dante's eyes flicked about, taking in their surroundings.

"Oh, more than I can handle alone. You see, I'm a vampire doctor."

"You're not a vampire," Dante scoffed.

Vanitas resisted the urge to strangle him. "I mean that I treat vampires as a doctor."

"Hmm, is that really a degree?" Dante looked unconvinced. "You don't seem old enough to be a doctor."

"The medical field is always progressing," Vanitas waived his hand airily, ignoring the jab about his age entirely. "Is it any surprise some of us humans would branch out to treat vampires? You people need treatment, too, what with the fragility of your real names. I can help with that."

"I'm not a full-fledged vampire, so I'm not sure how much this really applies to me. Why should I care?"

"Because I'll pay you."

"You have a steady source of income then? As a … doctor?"

"More or less."

Dante leaned back into his chair and crossed his arms consideringly. Vanitas held his breath. He hated to admit it but he really did need some form of backup and he needed leads. Dante would fill both roles if he could only be convinced.

"All right, I'll do it. What are the conditions?"

"Only one: don't ever think I'll risk myself for you. You're just a hired hand. Well?"

Dante snorted in irritation. "Likewise. I'm not about to be your shield. If that's it, I'd say it suits me just fine."

 _Shield?_ Now there was something to consider. Vanitas would prefer to keep himself at a distance from people but if he could convince someone to protect him in a more permanent fashion than Dante that would certainly be useful. He filed it away for later.

"Perfect. I'm glad to make your acquaintance then, Dante."

They shook hands and parted ways for the time being but it wouldn't be long before Vanitas called upon his services.

* * *

If Vanitas cared to have a friend, he supposed Dante would make a decent one. He didn't ask annoying questions or pester him to change his ways. He wasn't a vampire, wasn't a monster.

But he was close enough.

No, Dante would never be his friend because of what he was. Furthermore, he dealt in information, so while Dante didn't force any particular belief system on Vanitas he did observe him. Vanitas knew that's how it would be when he hired him; he was used to being observed and observing in turn. That was simply how life was. Dante was an ally for as long as Vanitas paid him. That was it.

So, Vanitas couldn't rely solely on Dante. He thought back to what Dante had refused to be: a shield. What kind of person did he want as a shield? It would have to be someone stronger than he was but who wasn't too inquisitive about the things Vanitas got up to. It would have to be someone intelligent despite that though; Vanitas had no interest in having to expend energy in rescuing anyone other than himself. It couldn't be anyone who would go digging into his past or try to find useful tidbits about himself like Dante did either. Preferably it would be someone who could tolerate Vanitas's eccentricities and was loyal to boot.

"No one like that exists," Vanitas said wistfully. If someone had all those qualities Vanitas would probably have to marry them on the spot.

He turned on his side, the springs of the bed creaking loudly as he did so. He looked forward to the day he could live in a more permanent home rather than having to pay for room and board all the time. It was expensive and it wasn't comfortable either.

The next day as he was walking down Paris he stumbled into a possible solution to his problem in the form of an urchin trying to steal his wallet.

It took Vanitas completely by surprise. He was used to being the one doing the stealing. He'd never before been in a position where he was wealthy enough to be the target. It was strangely flattering. As soon as he felt the telltale flutter of his coat and the subtle grasp of small hands he knew exactly what was happening though. He'd done the same often enough himself.

The child ran in the other direction with his wallet in hand as soon as he realized Vanitas had caught on to his ploy. Vanitas dashed after him, dodging people left and right. It was positively freezing and there were frozen spots on the road, so the whole affair turned out to be a touch more dangerous than Vanitas would have liked.

"You have good stamina," Vanitas huffed when he finally caught up. He held the child by the collar of his shirt. He was trying to wriggle away but without much success. They were starting to garner stares.

"Just my rascal of a younger brother!" Vanitas laughed and proceeded to drag him away.

"Let go of me! You are not my brother!"

"Why must you always say such hurtful things! And after I toil away in the mills to provide for you!"

"What?!"

Vanitas laughed even harder at his high-pitched shriek.

They finally settled at a nearby park where Vanitas snatched his wallet back from him.

"You did well to take this from me but if you'd been paying attention you would have known I was a bad target." Vanitas clucked his tongue at the disgruntled appearance of the child before him. He was clearly upset at being caught and even more annoyed to be on the receiving end of a lecture. Vanitas hid a grin behind his hand.

"So, what's your name?"

"None of your business," he muttered.

"Fair enough but I was thinking you might be useful."

At that he eyed him warily and scooted away. Vanitas's heart sank; he was familiar with that kind of behavior.

"Nothing like that," he reassured. "I'm in need of an assistant."

"An assistant?" He didn't move closer but he wasn't running either. Vanitas had his attention.

"I'm a doctor, you see. I treat vampires."

"Vampires don't exist."

"Are you sure?"

He shrugged uncertainly. "I've never seen one."

"But people acknowledge they exist, don't they?"

"Well, yeah, but that's just… People are willing to believe anything."

"Hmm, you're not wrong. Still, I can assure you I have met them. Some of them develop a kind of disease and I want to cure them. Care to help?"

"Why would I want to do anything like that?" Vanitas inwardly cheered. This child was not only nimble but also intelligent.

"In this case, it would be because I'd pay you."

"You would pay me?" At that his brown eyes glimmered excitedly. Oh, Vanitas remembered what that was like, to be so poor that the thought anyone paying you for anything was a godsend.

"I would," Vanitas said in a tone far gentler than he'd anticipated. "I'd get you off the streets, too. You wouldn't have to worry about anyone taking advantage or wonder where your next meal would come from." Vanitas knew he was making slightly unrealistic promises but for a moment this child reminded him of a different child who he'd failed so thoroughly and he thought maybe he could make a difference for once.

The less sentimental side of him knew that taking someone in at such a young age meant he would be able to shape him into exactly what he needed. He would never have to worry about being betrayed.

"What do you say? I'm guessing you don't have parents or siblings to worry about?" Vanitas hoped he didn't; that would complicate things unnecessarily.

"No, I don't. I've been on my own since I was five. I'm twelve now." Only five years younger than Vanitas, then.

"You've survived for a long time."

He nodded proudly. "I'm Bastien. I guess I could try helping you out a little."

"Excellent. I'm Vanitas. We'll have to get you training soon enough; it's a dangerous world out there, Bastien."

"I know," Bastien said. He hesitated a moment and then leaned up and gave Vanitas _la bise._ Vanitas sat rigidly. It had been so long since anyone had done that with him he'd all but forgotten the quaint custom existed. His face was freezing but the gesture was sweet enough that Vanitas would forgive him.

"Thank you, Monsieur Vanitas."

No one had ever thanked him before. "Right," he stuttered. "Well, let's get going then."

His heart sank. Had he made a terrible mistake? He was in no position to be caring for another in the way Bastien would surely need.

For a while things went very smoothly though. He took to Vanitas's training readily enough and practically worshipped the ground he walked on. It was unnerving; Vanitas was not a person worthy of affection but Bastien acted as though he really were his older brother.

"Someday, I'll be a chasseur," Bastien said excitedly one night from where he was propped up on Vanitas's chest. Vanitas still wasn't making much money, so they were forced to share a room as well as the bed; it was far too cold otherwise. Bastien didn't seem to mind though and Vanitas was used to such living conditions.

 _"What?"_

"A chasseur," Bastien said again. "They do what we do, right?"

"Not exactly." Vanitas inwardly groaned. He'd mentioned his time as a chasseur briefly to Bastien by way of explaining why a doctor knew how to use a pair of daggers. He'd left out the more grisly details involving Moreau and now Bastien seemed to think they were some kind of worthy organization.

"They hunt vampires. We're trying to save them. Don't be one of them."

"But you said they taught you how to fight! And they're part of the Church. They must be good people."

"I said no, Bastien," Vanitas snapped. "Stop making illogical assumptions about things you know nothing about."

"I'm sorry, Monsieur Vanitas," he murmured quietly, fiddling with the buttons on his shirt nervously.

"Just go to bed, Bastien. We're meeting up with Dante tomorrow."

Bastien complied readily enough and rested his head on Vanitas's shoulder. Part of him wanted to shove him away, to remind him that he was an _assistant_ not a treasured family member but he couldn't bring himself to do it regardless of how much he longed to escape to the rooftops.

Vanitas knew he wasn't really asleep anyway. Maybe he could escape once he was. He tried to ignore the way Bastien's dark brown locks tickled. It was just one more annoyance he had to manage. Still, it gave him a moment to collect his thoughts and contemplate the next day. Unfortunately, all he could think about was Bastien and his misguided optimism. Bastien wasn't ideal; he'd known that when he took him in, but he'd hoped he could mold him into an ideal shield. He'd been with him for two months now and that wasn't looking to be the case.

Oh, Bastien was talented but he was so naïve despite having lived on the streets for so long. Vanitas had lost that innocence years ago. Vanitas wondered what it would take to get Bastien to wake up to reality. He wondered if he had the reserves to make him do so.

Still, Bastien fit several requirements he'd wanted of a shield: intelligent, resourceful, and he took orders. He was also human. That hadn't been a requirement, per se, but there was a small part of Vanitas that was relieved. Humans were still monsters, yes, but they were monsters he had a better chance of maintaining some semblance of control over unlike all the vampires and dhampirs running about.

Eventually Bastien really did fall asleep. Vanitas took the opportunity to study his face. It was covered in freckles and was freshly cleaned. He looked infinitely healthier than when he'd taken him in. Vanitas ruffled his hair briefly before extricating himself. He'd make things work with Bastien. His revenge was a long term goal anyway. There would be plenty of time to transform Bastien into what he needed.

The next day they met up with Dante as expected. He announced himself by pounding on the door. Vanitas groaned and went to answer it. "Fetch the medical kit, Bastien," he muttered. They'd need it for the mission.

"So, you really did take some kid in," Dante said immediately upon entering.

Vanitas scowled while Bastien perked up immediately. "Yes! I'm his assistant," he said proudly from where he sat crouched over the kit making sure everything was in order.

"Is that right?" Dante raised an eyebrow.

"Shut up, Baldy."

Dante sputtered in rage. "I haven't said anything yet! And what do you mean 'Baldy?'"

"I mean I'm cursing you," Vanitas said warmly. "I hope you lose all your hair."

"Wha—what the hell, you quack?!"

"I'm not a quack!"

Bastien stifled a giggle behind his hand.

"Whatever," Dante muttered. "Do you want the information or not?"

They got down to business. It turned out someone wanted Vanitas's aid in healing them.

"You got the word out about me. Good work," Vanitas said, impressed despite himself.

"Yeah, yeah, it's my job to do that. You should start getting more clients from now on."

"You'll be coming with when I meet this one."

"Great." Dante eyed Bastien carefully. "Hey, kid, how about you get us all some sandwiches from the café across the street. Here's the money."

"Oh! All right," he said uncertainly, looking at Vanitas. Vanitas gave him a stiff nod and he grinned widely, snatching the money and darting out the door.

As soon as he was out of sight Dante rounded on him.

"Are you sure about this?" Dante said. "He's awfully young to be helping out with this kind of thing. He's slowed things down to boot; from what I've gathered you've been spending a lot of time teaching him. What if something happens to him?"

Dante had never commented on his personal life before. Vanitas found he disliked it immensely. It was uncomfortably close to the doubts he'd had as well.

"What's it to you? I need someone to work for me and he accepted the job."

"Come on, Quack. That kid just needs someone to take care of him. Somehow, I don't think that's your intention here. You're really going to bring a kid with you to treat a curse-bearer?"

"Shut up, Baldy. I don't answer to you." Dante looked away at that and studied Bastien's figure through the window. He'd just finished getting their order and was racing back excitedly.

"I think you just want someone that's easy to manipulate."

Vanitas wanted to be insulted but instead he just felt hollow. No, he was hardly a saint and he certainly wasn't a good person doing a kindly deed. He thought of Misha. He hadn't done him much good either but at least he'd tried. Bastien was ultimately something to be used even if he was fond of him in his way.

The silence stretched out before them. Dante finally looked away. "I can't believe you."

"Here are the sandwiches!" Bastien said as he burst through the door.

"Thanks, kid," Dante said softly. Vanitas accepted his own without comment.

"When do we leave?" Bastien asked.

"Right away," Vanitas said, daring Dante to object with a pointed stare. Dante glared back. Bastien looked from one to the other in confusion. The food tasted like ash.

It was an uneventful case. They got to the vampire with haste. Her symptoms weren't too severe; she wasn't yet a malnomen, so it was a simple task to perform an inverse operation. Bastien was fine. He tried to tell himself that it meant Bastien would always be fine.

Things worked out well for another couple months before they didn't. They were tracking down a full-fledged malnomen with Dante, dashing down winding alleyways when suddenly it disappeared.

"Where did you go?" Vanitas muttered. Dante held his gun at the ready. Bastien stayed close to him. He was armed but Vanitas had reminded him to never leave their sight.

Suddenly the malnomen burst through a window behind them, cackling wildly. The malnomen's deformed body lunged straight for Bastien, perhaps sensing the youngest would also be the weakest. Dante shot at it repeatedly but he wasn't fast enough.

Vanitas's heart stopped as Bastien shrieked. Time slowed down, allowing him the horror of witnessing every detail of Bastien's pain. The malnomen left deep scratches in his chest that bloomed red with blood and then it bit deeply into his neck. That wasn't supposed to happen.

That couldn't happen.

"Quack! What are you doing? Use the book!" Dante cried in horror. Vanitas jerked violently and obeyed unthinkingly. The familiar icy sensation of the book's powers being directed through him steeled his nerves and suddenly the real world faded away replaced by formulas.

 _"Gaidar: one who has joy. You'll forgive me if I don't wish you such."_

Afterwards the vampire collapsed from exhaustion. Vanitas didn't care; he only had eyes for Bastien. He flung himself at him and immediately set to bandaging his wounds. Bastien's breath was ragged, his eyes glazed. There was a deep gouge in his neck that Vanitas focused on first. Vanitas hoped the vampire's toxin wouldn't be lethal. It wasn't usually but Bastien was so small and it would travel through him quickly.

"Mons … ieur…"

"Don't speak, Bastien, you'll make it worse." Was that really his voice? He sounded shaky and shrill.

Vanitas kept working desperately, not noticing when Bastien's breathing stilled and his eyes lost their light. His gloves were stained red with blood. Numbly he wondered how he would ever get it out.

"Vanitas…"

"No, no, no…"

"There's nothing more you can do." He distantly registered a hand at his shoulder.

He collapsed, his face burying itself in Bastien's chest. He could feel the hot, stickiness of his blood. A loud whining sound filled the air. It took him awhile before he realized it was coming from himself.

"Why…"

"Vanitas…"

"Why did you take him from me?" Vanitas cried, rounding on the unconscious vampire. He stormed over and kicked him viciously in the chest. The vampire groaned. "I'm doing everything for you people and this is what I get? You're still nothing more than monsters; you'll never be more than that!" He kicked him again before he felt arms loop around his own that dragged him away.

"Let go, Dante!"

"You are covered in blood, there's a dead child in the alleyway, and you're beating an unconscious civilian. If anyone sees this you're going to face the guillotine," Dante hissed.

Vanitas let out a wail of despair. Why should he care if he died? What did any of it matter? He'd failed again.

All he could see was Bastien. He looked so pale. He needed to be taken home. Why couldn't Dante see that?

Vanitas didn't remember much more of that night. He hazily remembered Dante dragging him away from the scene and washing his face with a handkerchief as best he could. He'd muttered something about "always helping you when you're falling apart" but that didn't make any sense and Vanitas supposed he might have dreamt it.

* * *

After that Vanitas revised his criteria for a shield. No more children. They needed too much attention anyway and Vanitas had never wanted to be a father. He tried to treat the whole thing like it was just a learning curve as opposed to yet another tragedy that sliced away at his nerves and sanity.

Dante was kind enough not to say "I told you so." In fact, he never mentioned Bastien again. It was almost like Vanitas had imagined the whole thing. Why would someone want to work with him anyway?

A week after the "event" as Vanitas had taken to referring to it to himself Dante showed up at his hotel.

"You look terrible. Let's get out of here."

Vanitas went with him.

That was how he discovered Dumas.

Dante took him to a tavern that he insisted had incredible food but all Vanitas cared about was the absinthe.

"You seriously enjoy drinking that stuff?" Dante wrinkled his nose in disgust at the green substance.

"It's supposed to bring the Muse to you, you know," Vanitas said before downing a cupful of it and pouring another.

"Since when do you care about 'the Muse?'" Vanitas shrugged. Why shouldn't he? He could use a little inspiration.

"And aren't you supposed to dilute that before you drink it?"

"Just eat your potato, Dante."

Dante muttered something uncomplimentary before returning to his meal.

It wasn't long before he had to waive the waiter over.

"I … need another bottle," he managed.

"Please don't give him one," Dante whined.

"Of course, sir. Is it for a special occasion?" Vanitas took a second to process that question. Special occasion? Only if a special occasion involved mourning. It wasn't an unusual circumstance to find himself in though. He couldn't remember a time when he wasn't in mourning. He finally focused his eyes on the waiter.

He was very handsome with his shoulder –length blond hair and soft hazel eyes. He would make for an excellent distraction from life.

Vanitas felt himself smiling. "Oh, yes. I'm looking for the Muse."

"No, he's not," Dante said sourly. "Seriously, do not bring this guy anymore absinthe. He's probably already seeing fairies…"

"No, just vampires," Vanitas laughed. "It's always vampires. What was your name?"

The waiter blinked in surprise. "It's Dumas, sir."

"Hmm, that's a lovely name."

"Heaven help me…. Do not make me drag you out of here, Quack."

"You said something about vampires?" Dumas said in response, his tone serious. Dante looked up at him warily. Vanitas gestured toward the third seat at the table. Dumas sat down hesitantly. They were the only people in the tavern at the moment.

Vanitas proceeded to explain that he was a vampire doctor and that it was his mission to save them from themselves. He might have made himself sound infinitely more successful at it than he really was judging by the sounds of disgust Dante kept making. He then proceeded to get Dumas to tell him everything about himself. It was easy. He said a few complimentary words and the man was like putty in his hands. It had been something of a gamble; he could very easily had no interest in men but it seemed like for once in his life Vanitas was fortunate.

He sent him away briefly to get more absinthe at some point but he was having a hard time keeping track of the order of things.

Dumas was the same age as himself at 17 and had worked at the tavern for three years. He hailed from a southern village in France. Vanitas tried to mull that over while he was away.

When he returned he continued the conversation as though there had never been any pause. Dante was looking increasingly nervous. Vanitas patted his hand comfortingly; he had no idea what was bugging Dante but he was in a good mood. Dante pulled away immediately. Vanitas couldn't remember why he'd been doing it in the first place.

"Vampires? So they are real then."

"Indeed," Vanitas said before taking another sip of his absinthe, taking in the way Dumas's eyes followed the movement. Vanitas had never had this much to drink before. He had no idea how much he'd had. Didn't people usually do this when something was bothering them? Not that there was anything that could be bothering him. Vanitas couldn't think of anything that would be bothering him. Why was he here again?

Right. Dumas. He was handsome. Somehow that made sense.

Dante steadfastly ignored the way Vanitas was leaning ever so slightly on him for support. "Don't drink so fast, Quack…"

"I think I always knew," Dumas admitted, hesitantly. "After what happened I tried to deny it but I think … it's the only thing that makes sense. Might I be of some assistance?"

"Hmm, what's your skill set?" Vanitas let out a sly grin. His tone was, perhaps, a little more suggestive than the topic merited.

"Just what are you doing?" Dante hissed as Dumas's face flushed ever so slightly.

"I'm in need of a shield," Vanitas continued as though nothing had happened. He wasn't sure why he was hitting on Dumas anyway. For once, Dante was right. Probably right anyway.

"A shield?"

"Someone who can," Vanitas's mind blanked for a second. What was the word again?

"He wants a bodyguard," Dante finished for him.

"A partner," Vanitas corrected. Then he thought about what he'd just said. A partner suggested some kind of equality and he didn't want to be at anyone's beck and call. "No, bodyguard. Someone useful. We'll be looking for malnomen. Vampires. You see?"

Dante snatched the glass of absinthe out of his hand, muttering something about idiotic drunks. Vanitas let him. The world was starting to swim and that had never happened before.

"I think I do. I think I'll join you for my mother's sake if you'll have me. She didn't deserve—" Dumas huffed angrily. "I would like to stop these creatures from hurting others."

Vanitas nodded grimly but stopped when the motion nearly sent him careening into the table.

"He's technically saving them," Dante said stiffly. He wore a deep frown and kept glancing at Vanitas whose head was now decidedly resting on his shoulder.

"Saving? But you said you were stopping them!"

"Did I?" Vanitas had no idea what he'd been saying. "Yes. Saving them stops them, you see."

"Like … an exorcism? Are you some kind of priest?"

Vanitas chuckled darkly. "I suppose so." He'd been trained by the Church after all.

"Then I'll still join. My mother would have approved of something like that."

"Good, good. Dante, you're just like a pillow." It was a marvel. Why wasn't Dante around all the time? Vanitas promptly passed out.

In retrospect, Vanitas should have known that inviting an unknown entity to join him at a tavern where he'd been utterly under the influence wouldn't go well but for a while it did and he convinced himself that it would be fine. Dumas knew how to use a gun, which was definitely useful and he was a fast learner.

"I'm so glad to join you, Vanitas. Can I call you Vanitas?" He brushed Vanitas's bangs behind his ear. They'd just finished "exorcising" a vampire as Dumas insisted on calling it and had returned to the hotel. He refused to listen to any of Vanitas's explanations on how the Book actually worked and insisted it was the grace of God. He seemed to be under the misguided impression that Vanitas was a fervent believer. Vanitas let him think whatever he wanted.

He shrugged. "I don't see why not."

"Wonderful. You know, I was a little uncertain when I first met you but I think things will work out fine between us."

"Do you now?"

"I do." He leaned forward and kissed him. Vanitas kissed him back.

Vanitas met up with Dante at the crack of dawn afterwards. He let Dumas continue to sleep. Despite the closeness of their relationship Dumas was still his shield. He was still paying him to be his shield. Not for the rest, obviously. Was he paying him for that? Vanitas rubbed the bridge of his nose in frustration. He'd only known him for a week. That's why things were confusing. It would sort itself out.

It was an unconvincing sentiment at best, so when he met up with Dante he was in a fouler mood than usual. Dante just went with it and remained silent about his mussed clothes and biting tone.

"Aren't you going to say anything?" Vanitas finally muttered to Dante after they'd sorted out the details of another client. They were walking around Paris; Vanitas was reluctant to return. Dumas liked to pray when he woke up and it grated on Vanitas's nerves. It reminded him far too much of being surrounded by chasseurs who wanted nothing more than for him to be an obedient disciple. He'd never enjoyed their sermons and had found them intensely hypocritical once they'd given him to Moreau.

"About Dumas?"

"Obviously."

"He's … not fond of vampires. Have you told him what I am?"

Vanitas blinked. Right, Dante wasn't human. When had Vanitas lost sight of that?

"I didn't mean that part."

Dante sighed and squeezed the bridge of his nose in consternation.

"If you're wondering whether I think he'll be a good "shield" or not, whatever that means, the answer is no, I don't. That man wants revenge and I doubt he has any interest in saving vampires in the long run. I really don't get how you pick these people out…."

Privately, Vanitas understood where Dumas was coming from and part of him sympathized. But his own revenge dictated that he save vampires and that was all there was to it. Dante didn't need to know that, however.

"He's quite skilled."

"Is he now," Dante said dryly. Vanitas flushed.

"I didn't mean like that." He hadn't but the comment brought his worries to the forefront of his mind once more. What was Dumas to him anyway? He didn't love him. Without a drunken haze obscuring his sense Dumas seemed much like any other individual—a tool to be used and nothing more. What was the point in seducing him? Had he even been the one doing the seducing?

He couldn't ask Dante about any of that though. It would imply that Vanitas wasn't completely in control of the situation when, of course, he was.

"Just because he can shoot a gun doesn't mean he can actually defend himself. He's going to be a burden on you, Quack."

"You don't know that," Vanitas said. "It won't be like … last time."

Dante's eyes softened. Vanitas hated him a little bit right then and there. Why did Dante have to know everything that went wrong for Vanitas lately anyway? He hated having to rely on him.

When he returned Dumas wrapped him in his arms and kissed him passionately. They stumbled into the wall. Vanitas was just glad Dante hadn't come up to the room with him. He felt something close to shame and he didn't need Dante to be privy to that along with everything else.

He nearly pushed Dumas away when he undid his bowtie and pressed his lips to his neck but then he remembered Dumas wasn't a vampire and it didn't matter. None of it did. Besides, Dumas was ultimately harmless. Vanitas could stop him whenever he wanted. It was reassuring.

"Vanitas…" he whined. Vanitas started. Right, he was supposed to actually take part in this and was probably being rude, not that he usually cared one way or another but he did like Dumas despite his flaws. He sighed and leaned in to kiss him in turn.

Dante was ultimately both right and wrong about Dumas. Dumas was an excellent shot, he defended Vanitas superbly, but he had no concept of when to leave well enough alone. He always wanted to talk about the past, about how his life used to be, how wonderful his mother had been, and he expected Vanitas to reciprocate as though anything in Vanitas's past was worth talking about. Furthermore, he was always trying to get Vanitas to go to church with him for sermons or confession or whatever else they were doing there at the time. It was starting to wear Vanitas's patience down and he'd never had much to begin with.

They'd just gotten off the trolley and were waiting for Dante back in the hotel room, when the conversation took a turn for the worst.

"What's wrong with asking you about the past anyway? I've told you everything about myself!"

"And I told you time and time again it's not any of your business," Vanitas snarled.

"I hate this. I hate how secretive you are and I hate that you're saving vampires. I know I shouldn't feel that way. I know God is merciful—" Vanitas snorted. Dumas's eyes narrowed dangerously.

"There is nothing merciful about God."

"If you're like a priest—"

"I barely remember that conversation; don't quote it back at me."

"Then don't say things you don't mean!"

Vanitas grit his teeth. "It's not my fault if you're that gullible. Am I supposed to hold your hand and show you right from wrong? Lead you in prayer? That's not my job. In fact, I pay you to do a job and interrogating me isn't part of it."

Dumas closed his eyes and breathed deeply, in and out, in and out. "I can't believe you. You know how important it is to me that we work well together. I want us to be on the same page but you never reciprocate anything! I never should have left home for this."

"Then get out!" Vanitas was being louder than he should be. He was going to get complaints but he didn't care. He couldn't figure out why he'd ever thought so highly of Dumas and he definitely couldn't fathom why he'd invited him to work for him.

Dumas's eyes widened in shock. Vanitas could see himself reflected in them. It did nothing to calm him down but it did make him take a second to collect himself.

Why was he was yelling anyway? Why was he getting so emotional about this? It wasn't like he cared about Dumas. He was just another hired hand. Handsome, perhaps, easy to talk to when they weren't arguing, but that surely meant nothing. Why couldn't Dumas just drop the subject? Why did any of it matter?

"Are you serio-"

"Just go, Dumas. I can't deal with this anymore. I don't need to explain myself to you."

He tried to ignore the way Dumas hunched his shoulders as he turned away and walked out of the room. It would be better this way.

About thirty minutes later, Dante showed up to see Vanitas pacing on top of the roof in barely restrained fury.

"He left then?" It was all he needed to say.

"He was an idiot. I need someone less opinionated."

Privately, Dante suspected that wasn't the problem. The last thing Vanitas needed was someone who would just bend to his will. Not for the first time Dante wondered if Vanitas knew what he even meant by "shield." Protection? Surely, but if that's all it was he wouldn't insist on these people living in such close quarters to him, all but asking them to be a part of his life without actually telling them anything, without taking their own health and safety into account.

It was incredibly selfish. But, Dante reminded himself, he didn't have all the details and his career demanded he did before he thought much of anything. Vanitas could figure it out for himself.

"Can't say I'm going to miss this one. So, what are you going to do now?"

"What I've been doing, Dante," he snapped. "I'm going to save vampires."

* * *

Ultimately, Vanitas tried out one more shield. This time it was a woman named Mauve.

He met her at a party he'd been invited to by Dante, who had, in turn, been invited by Johann.

"So, you're Vanitas. I've heard a bit about you from our Dante here." Johann's eyes raked over him consideringly. Vanitas ignored him.

"What am I doing here?" Vanitas said instead, looking at Dante pointedly. Dante hastily finished chewing a scone.

"I told you, parties are one of the best places to get intel. It's good practice. Besides, who doesn't want to go to a party?"

Vanitas huffed. Dante would think that way. At least he didn't think they were chummy enough that Vanitas would want to go to a party with him for no reason whatsoever.

"What kind of intel do you think we can get here, anyway?"

"Ah, that would be my area, actually." Johann's eyes sparkled mischievously. "This particular party was arranged by vampires yet there are no vampires to be found. Curious, wouldn't you agree?"

Vanitas took a second to think that statement through before replying. Vampires were arranging parties in the human world? What was the point of that? It made even less sense for them not to attend. He suddenly felt very much like he'd just been ensnared in a trap. He didn't like it at all.

"I only care about curse-bearers and the like," Vanitas said uneasily. "I don't care what humans get up to."

"You probably should," Dante said in exasperation. "There are an awful lot of them and you happen to be one."

"Why am I here?" Vanitas demanded. He didn't have patience for riddles or lectures.

"Vampires often like to purchase humans on the black market," Johann explained. "It doesn't matter what the human's status is. This party could very easily be a way of selecting someone to bring back to Altus Paris. So? Wouldn't you like to stop that?"

"You're asking me to do the two of you a favor," Vanitas realized. He glared at Dante. "Since when is that how this worked?"

"Come on, Quack," Dante grumbled. "You're not the only client we have. Think of it like this: you do this and you get a freebie next time. Just mingle a bit, see if you can find anything out. You're a human, so if a vampire shows up you'll blend in better than me and Johann here."

"Sounds dangerous," Vanitas said.

"You have the Book. You'll be fine. Just avoid the alcohol, would you? I'd rather not have a repeat of last time."

Vanitas glared daggers at him but he felt his cheeks flush. Johann chuckled softly. "Dante never mentioned you were this amusing."

"That's because he's not amusing at all. He's more like an angry cat," Dante said. Vanitas wandered away. He had no desire to listen to the two of them gossip about him like he wasn't even there. He would, however, avoid the alcohol.

The ballroom was decadent in its splendor and it was easy to get lost in the hustle and bustle of people dancing, drinking, and talking. It was far livelier than Vanitas preferred. He hadn't dressed extravagantly enough for this but he wasn't dressed down enough to pass for a servant either. He wasn't sure how he was supposed to mingle at this rate.

He probably should have brought a date. Dante hadn't brought one either though. Unless Johann was the date? But Dante had never expressed any interest in men and he understood the necessity of blending in. Furthermore, dancing with another man in public would be considered … bold.

Vanitas admitted that he would probably do it if only to rile the aristocracy up.

"Is there anything I can get you?" Vanitas looked up from his contemplation of dancing and blending in to behold a stunning woman.

She was obviously a servant judging by the simplicity of her dress but her dark curls and perfect skin made her as striking as any noblewoman.

She was a little taller than he was, which was unusual, and she met his eyes boldly without any hesitation but she held herself in a subservient way as was befitting a servant. It made for a strange contrast. Suddenly, Vanitas had an epiphany.

"I suppose so. Could you spare some time?"

She blinked slowly, her expression carefully neutral.

"Of course. What do you need?"

Well, he needed a way to mingle with the crowd.

"How about a dance?" Dancing with a servant was sure to upset the aristocracy as surely as dancing with a man would and Vanitas did enjoy being a contrarian. Besides, if there were any vampires trying to kidnap humans, they'd be easier to identify this way. Vampires wouldn't care much how humans conducted themselves, especially if they were hunting them, while other humans absolutely would.

"I don't think people would approve." Her lips quirked up slightly. Vanitas beamed.

"Do you mind?"

She looked around, her eyes flitting from one person to the next before settling back on him.

"No."

"Perfect."

As he led her around the dance floor his eyes met Dante's. He bit back a laugh at the horrified gape being sent his way. Johann tittered behind him.

"Are those your friends?" She glanced at them briefly.

"I suppose so."

"They're dhampirs."

Vanitas nearly tripped over himself in shock.

"Don't worry, I won't say anything. If they're here it must mean something significant is happening."

"Are you…?" He didn't want to say vampire aloud. This was a human party and most humans didn't acknowledge their nocturnal counterparts even if they knew they technically existed. Could she be the one conducting this hunt? He cursed himself inwardly. Of course he'd go straight for the vampire.

"I'm human," she said softly. "I'm just familiar with what to look for. I've assisted the dhampirs before." Vanitas looked back over at Dante whose mouth was pressed into a tight line. Did he know something?

"I see. What was your name?"

"Mauve." It occurred to him that she didn't speak in a particularly deferential manner for a servant. It was … exciting.

"What did you help them with?"

Mauve bit her lip in consternation. Vanitas tried not to stare at the gesture too obviously.

"I'm a spy," she said bluntly.

At that Vanitas let out a gleeful laugh. "Truly? Oh, maybe this party was worth attending after all. What's your skill set?" He kept any flirtatiousness out of his voice this time. He suspected any attempt at manipulation would work to his detriment and he wasn't trying to chase her away just yet. Depending on her reply, she just might be the most qualified shield he'd chosen yet. At the very least, she could help him investigate.

"Subterfuge and self-defense, really."

"I take it you're not really a servant then."

"No, not really." She smiled softly.

"Why are you here then?" It seemed like the obvious thing to ask. They swayed to and fro. Mauve's eyes scanned the crowd intermittently before resting back on him.

"I think you should be able to guess." Vanitas eyed her carefully. She could be manipulating him by letting him fill in the gaps.

"Right," he said instead. What did it matter though? He was doing Dante a favor by even being here and he had larger concerns than what happened to a few noble humans. He thought of Dumas briefly, of how enraged he would have been at that line of thought. Dumas always disagreed with him about every little thing though. Hopefully Mauve wouldn't be the same. Briefly he considered Bastien as well but that was far too painful.

"How would you like a job?" he said both because he wanted to know and because he needed a distraction.

"I think you'll find I already have one," she said mischievously.

Vanitas wasn't sure what to say to that. Undoubtedly she was being paid quite well as a spy.

"But tell me more," she continued smoothly. "I might be able to fit something in."

So he explained it. He explained the job better than he'd ever explained it to Dumas or Bastien. He was honest about his abilities though he left out the Book for now. If she proved loyal enough he'd tell her more about it.

Out of the corner of his eye he noticed a strange movement. He groaned inwardly. Maybe there was something to what Dante had said after all.

Mauve followed his trail of vision and frowned. "Looks like I need to be off. See you later …?"

"Vanitas."

"Vanitas? What an unusual name." She left before he could say anything more. He stared after her. Should he follow? She probably didn't need any assistance though. Vanitas didn't really want to get caught up in the black market one way or another either. He felt something akin to guilt for a moment but he brushed it aside.

A hand gripped him tightly by the shoulder. It was Dante. Johann followed behind him at a slower pace.

"What was that? Who was she?"

"You don't know?" Vanitas said, startled. He'd thought Dante must have known. "She said she'd worked with the dhampirs before."

Johann let out a slow hum of consideration. "If she has she's never worked with either of us."

"I don't like this, Quack." Dante eyed the dancing figures. The music had picked up in tempo and now it was harder to make anything out.

"She went to take care of your little problem either way. Can I go now?"

"You let her go after the vampire?" Dante's face went red with rage. "How do you know she's not working with them?"

Vanitas didn't but he also didn't want to think about it too hard.

"Did you even get any information at all?" Vanitas hadn't.

Johann tutted in chagrin. Dante looked like he wanted to shake Vanitas within an inch of his life. Vanitas took a moment to feel genuine shame. Maybe he should care a little more about his fellow man. He didn't though.

"You can forget the freebie. You're getting charged extra next time."

"I didn't even have to be here," Vanitas said angrily. "Don't try to maneuver me in whatever way you see fit. I owe you nothing."

Johann looked over at Dante questioningly. Dante just raised his hands in defeat.

Vanitas left without looking back.

"Had a bit of a falling out, did we?" Vanitas turned in surprise. It was Mauve.

"He'll get over it," Vanitas muttered. "I just pay him." He still felt guilt. He knew what it was like to be stripped away from everything you knew. Why couldn't he bring himself to care more about people who might suffer in a similar way he did?

"Want me to walk you home? It's dangerous at night."

Vanitas snorted. "You're going to walk me home?"

"Why ever not? You were asking me to be your shield earlier, weren't you?"

"Tell me what happened with the vampire first." Vanitas needed to know, needed to know how much he had failed that evening.

"I took care of it," Mauve replied without hesitation. "You don't need to worry about Altus."

"You know quite a bit about vampires," Vanitas said slowly.

"I told you, I assist the dhampirs on occasion. Also, I'm a spy; it's no good to be a spy without obtaining unusual information, wouldn't you say? Now, do you want me to look after you or not?"

Vanitas hesitated. Yes, he had offered her the job but this was moving much faster than he'd anticipated. It occurred to him that he had, once again, done something very foolish.

"All right." One more foolish thing would hardly be his undoing. She smiled knowingly and extended her arm to him. He glared at her but ultimately accepted it. She was wearing some kind of perfume that smelled of violets. It was pleasant. Had she been wearing it before? The night suddenly seemed more comfortable than it had before.

"We're here," Vanitas announced.

"Good. Get your rest. I'm sure we'll be busy soon enough." He wanted to protest, he was never tired at this hour, but she brushed the hair out of his eyes and he suddenly didn't feel like arguing much.

The next day he slept in. He never slept in. He bolted upright taking in his surroundings with haste. When had he gone to bed? When had he even gotten back to the hotel? Hazily, it began to come back to him. Mauve had walked him home.

"Oh, is everything all right?" It was Mauve, sitting by the windowsill as though she'd always been there. Vanitas quickly assessed his state. All of his clothes were still on thankfully. He relaxed minutely.

"What are you still doing here?"

She raised a brow at him imperiously. "You hired me, remember? I finished my mission last night and I have some free time. Therefore, I'm here with you."

"I—right. Of course." Really, what was so shocking about that? Wasn't this how a shield was supposed to behave? He wasn't sure he liked a woman commandeering his room though. It made him feel powerless, as though he were back with _her._

"I'm going out," he announced. "Come with if you like." She glided after him and he took a moment to admire how lovely she really was. Elegant, refined, deadly, it was everything he'd wanted. So far she wasn't prying into his business either. Maybe this would work out better than he'd thought.

He bumped into Dante almost the second he stepped foot outside. He was clearly in high dudgeon.

"What now?" He was not whining.

"We need to talk. Mauve, was it? We'll need a moment."

She shrugged and ventured off in the opposite direction as though she didn't have a care in the world. Vanitas instantly felt envious of her unflappable nature.

Dante yanked him around so that he was facing him. "A spy? Really? This is who you're inviting into your life now?"

"Why not? She would make a perfect shield, don't you think?" He glanced over at her once more, her tall figure easy to spot.

"Oh, no, don't tell me you've fallen for this one, too." Dante looked upwards as though the heavens might have some answer to the conundrum he was presented with. Vanitas felt a little insulted.

"I never fell for Dumas and I certainly won't fall for some woman either." Even he didn't know if he was telling the truth or not.

"Sure, whatever you say. But look, I don't think this is a good idea, Vanitas. She's a spy for one. The likelihood that she's trying to get information on you is absurdly high."

Sometimes Dante was entirely too frustrating. "No different from you then."

"Completely different from me!" Dante cried. "I'll let you know if I sell some information on you. I keep things honest. Well, mostly honest. I seriously doubt she will. Furthermore, I can't find any evidence of her in our records, which means that if she has worked with the dhampirs it was for some seriously shady business. You can't just let her into your life like this."

"You're always doing this," Vanitas said with forced calm. "You don't get a say on the kinds of people I surround myself with. You are not my _friend,_ you are my _informant."_

"Yeah, and as your _informant_ I'm letting you know you're being an idiot."

They glared at each other.

Dante was the one who broke first. "Regardless of all that, you owe me money. You really blew that gig yesterday."

"I shouldn't have even been on it."

"I've also got some information for you. Another client."

"And I'm getting charged for both, I take it?"

"Obviously."

Vanitas weighed the pros and cons of saying "no way." No matter how he looked at it, he still needed Dante. Why did he have to be so bloody useful?

"Fine, whatever. I'll pay for both." Dante smirked victoriously.

"Hmm, this one isn't too far away. Think you'll be available tomorrow?"

"Sure, I'll see you then."

"Mauve will be coming with." Vanitas saw the way Dante cringed.

"Whatever you want to do. It's your business."

"Quite right."

Mauve meandered back over once Dante had taken his leave.

"Everything all right?"

"We'll be going on a mission tomorrow."

"Saving a vampire then? Sounds like it should be exciting. I look forward to seeing how you do it." Her eyes trailed all over him. Vanitas suddenly felt very warm.

"Care to get a bite to eat?"

It dawned on Vanitas later that Mauve had inserted herself into his life with a deftness that bordered on disturbing.

She was almost too perfect. She didn't make inquiries, she didn't question him, she just did the job he assigned.

After awhile even Vanitas had to admit it was strange. No one was actually like this. When he'd put together his list of the perfect shield he knew he'd never find anyone like it and yet this woman fit every requirement: strong, discreet, intelligent, and she cared very little for Vanitas's affairs outside of saving vampires. The only real downside to her was that she would disappear on random occasions for her other job. She never told Vanitas any details about it either.

It was intensely attractive but it terrified him in turn.

* * *

She leapt away from the malnomen and proceeded to do a sweeping kick, knocking it to the ground. How she was so graceful in a dress Vanitas would never know. Vanitas grinned and whipped out the Book. Her smile etched itself into his vision before it faded from view.

Afterwards they returned to the hotel entangled in one another's arms. She pushed him gently onto the bed. Her figure above him was regal and striking. Moonlight streamed in through the window.

For a brief moment her silhouette reminded him of someone else, someone who had also been tall and powerful, but he squashed that emotion soundly. She was nothing like _that_ woman. Mauve was … not trustworthy, exactly. Actually, she was far from it. But Vanitas didn't trust anyone. Did he?

He felt far more nervous than he'd been with Dumas but he did his best to keep it to himself. Mauve was gripping his hands tightly and trailing kisses along his jaw line and he didn't actually want her to stop.

Things with Dumas had been simple if ultimately frustrating. But Mauve … Mauve was stronger than he was. He'd never had to worry about that with Dumas.

For the first time it occurred to him that that may have been a bad thing to look for in a shield. He tried to focus; this wasn't anyone to be frightened of. This wasn't a vampire claiming his blood. He was fine. He was the one who'd initiated this even if she was the one taking charge.

Her lips tasted like absinthe and for a moment he forgot what he'd been worrying about.

Only a few days after he bumped into Dante who quickly drew him away from the bustling streets of Paris.

"There you are! I was just going to the hotel to see if I could find you. Everything all right?"

Vanitas blinked in confusion. When did Dante ever ask how he was doing?

"Of course I'm all right. Why?"

"Look, I know this isn't any of my business, but I'm … concerned. You left me out of the last mission. You've never done that before. Why?"

Vanitas wasn't sure he had a good answer for him. "I didn't need you to come along that time. Mauve is more than capable. I thought you'd be relieved to avoid playing bodyguard. It's not your specialty, if I recall."

"No, it's not but… You know I'm still here if you need me, right?"

"Getting sentimental, Baldy? How disgusting."

Dante wasn't moved. "Why does she want to rescue vampires anyway? Why is she doing any of this? She's clearly a capable spy; she doesn't need you, not like… well, not like your past candidates."

Vanitas didn't want to hear that. He just wanted something to work out for once.

"You were right before; it's not any of your business." He turned away.

"Oh, come on, I'm saying this as your friend—"

"We are not friends!" Vanitas cried, spinning around suddenly. "I told you before, didn't I? You're just a hired hand!"

"We've known each other for two years! You don't bring someone along everywhere if you're not friends, you idiot!" Dante stomped his foot, scaring the little bat creature with his vehemence.

"You don't pay your friends to go everywhere with you either! Whatever happens with us doesn't concern you." Dante flinched but he held his ground.

"It does if it affects the business side of things between us. Look, I've been investigating her—"

"You said you didn't find anything before," Vanitas said icily.

"Yeah, well, I dug a little harder. There's nothing concrete but I think she's one of us."

Vanitas was quiet for a moment. "What?"

"A dhampir. An information broker. Well, not an information broker exactly. She was telling the truth about being a spy, weirdly."

"Why wouldn't you have known something like that before?" The world seemed to tilt slightly. A dhampir? A monster? But no, everyone was a monster. Why would it matter if she was a dhampir or not?

"I told you, she's probably trying to get information on you, Vanitas. You've been stirring up a fair amount of trouble lately. I wouldn't be surprised. Also," Dante hesitated.

"What?" Vanitas demanded. "Don't be coy with me now."

"She may have been hired to keep you away from the vampires at the party we took you to."

Vanitas carefully maintained control of his breath but he could tell he'd be hyperventilating soon enough if he wasn't careful.

"Your people hired one of their own, to prevent me from stopping a vampire when you, the very same organization mind you, wanted me to stop the very same vampire? How does that make any sense?"

"Like I said, we have a lot of clients. One client wanted the vampires stopped, while the other wanted them to succeed. Both clients hired us. Well, dhampirs that is. Obviously Johann and I were trying to save the humans. We're neutral in this little back-and-forth between humans and vampires."

"I know that." Vanitas had known that but he'd never really thought about it. An entire organization that would support whoever hired them meant morals were utterly lax. Why was this just now dawning on him?

"So? What are you going to do?"

Vanitas laughed boisterously at that. He kept on laughing until even he knew he sounded insane. He was sure he was drawing attention from passersby.

"You tell me all that and then don't even offer a solution, Dante? Really now, what do I pay you for?" He heaved in a deep breath and choked. There was something warm on his face. Tears.

"Oh, Quack, I'm sorry," Dante said hastily. He'd only ever seen Vanitas cry once before for Bastien and he really didn't want a repeat in the middle of the street. If he'd known the reaction would this severe he would have told him in private. "Look, I'll keep investigating; this is kind of my fault in the first place."

"Isn't it, though? Don't drag me into dhampir affairs again, Dante. Just … don't."

"Okay," he said quietly. "Um, I'll pay you back as well, seeing as our own people kind of messed things up for us. Are you going to be okay?" He hesitantly placed a hand on his shoulder. Vanitas swatted it away.

"Do me a favor and keep the money and your hands to yourself."

"All right. Next couple of jobs will be free then." He offered a weak smile. Vanitas said nothing.

Finally, Dante turned to leave.

"I slept with a monster," Vanitas realized aloud.

Now that was a can of worms Dante wanted nothing to do with.

"Er…"

"She's a monster, Dante. I knew it but I told myself it wasn't true." His eyes were wide as if he were seeing something else. "Why would I do that?"

"I never said she was monstrous." What was Vanitas going on about? "I just meant you should be a little more careful around her. I mean, she's just doing a job like the rest of us. Uh, sleeping with you probably isn't the job. I doubt it's anything too nefarious. Just, you know, intel." Oh, what had Dante just stepped into? He'd known, in an abstract way, that Vanitas was most likely intimate with Mauve, probably had been with Dumas as well, but to have it confirmed was something else entirely.

"You're saying she helped guarantee a human was sold into slavery by vampires. How is that not monstrous? How am I not…?" His breath hitched and the tears came with new ferocity. He wiped them away angrily.

"Stop looking so concerned. I'll figure it out," Vanitas said dazedly. He wondered if he was making any sense.

"Okay…"

"Do you think it's the Book?"

"Huh?"

"What else would she want information on?"

"I … don't know. Maybe nothing. It depends on if she's actually working for anyone right now or just, uh, curious."

"Curious?"

"I mean, maybe she just likes you."

"Yes, I suppose someone like that would love someone like me." It would fit in with the only other person who had ever "loved" him.

Vanitas left. He was going to find Mauve.

Dante wished he'd never invited him to that party. He'd have to give Johann some grief for that idea.

* * *

Vanitas stepped past the threshold of the hotel room. Mauve was sitting on the bed, doing some kind of embroidery.

"You're a dhampir."

The silence that followed was deafening. Vanitas took in her appearance. She was dressed impeccably. She was just embroidering a pillow. She looked _harmless_ She was one of the most dangerous people he'd ever met.

"You've been talking to Dante," she finally said without inflection.

"You said you were human!" He slammed his fist on the wall behind him. "You said—"

"I am human!" A thread of emotion wove its way in her voice. She put the embroidery aside and stood up. He hated that she was taller than him. "The only vampire in my bloodline is from three generations ago. It means nothing."

"It means everything," Vanitas hissed. "I can't believe I—" But to finish that sentence would suggest he had an attachment. Vanitas was not attached to Mauve. "You've been spying on me," he said instead.

Her eyes narrowed. "Does the idea bother you? It's not so different from your friend, Dante."

"He's not—that doesn't matter. Don't change the subject. What have you told them? Who are you working for?"

"You know I wouldn't reveal something like that, Vanitas." She rubbed her forehead, her eyes scrunched up. Maybe she was tired. "Believe it or not, I'm not spying on you."

"But you did help sell those humans into slavery, didn't you?"

"My job was to make sure no one prevented it from happening but I didn't sell them myself, no."

"It's the same thing, don't act like it isn't. You told me you saved them." Vanitas's voice shook. "How can you say you're human if you're willing to sell your own people out?" How could he say he was human when he'd barely cared to begin with?

"I never said that, you just assumed. It was my job. When you're in my business you know how to distance yourself from personal misgivings."

Vanitas wanted to scream at her that that was wrong, everything about her was wrong. But didn't he try to do the same? Didn't he wish he could distance himself in that way? Wasn't he only helping vampires for the sake of vengeance against one who was already dead? Where was his moral ground in this conversation?

"Why are you here?" he said instead. He looked at his trembling hands, tried to steady them.

"I was curious about you. You were different from the other humans I'd met, different from the vampires as well. It's hard to say what it was but … I was intrigued." Vanitas knew exactly what was different about him. It was etched into his right arm.

"I grew attached. I liked how you were willing to save others; it's not something I often get to do in my line of work. I don't know what your motive is and I don't really care. But that's why I stayed."

It was all said so matter-of-factly, as if she hadn't just gutted him.

"Leave." He hated the weakness in his voice, hated how she barely seemed to care and yet had ruined him utterly.

"Vanitas—"

"Just … leave. I never want to see you again."

"Very well." She was quiet; she could have passed as sad if Vanitas didn't know what she was. "I enjoyed our time together while it lasted. Take care, Vanitas. You walk a difficult road."

Vanitas stood there unmoving long after she'd left. He placed a hand over his eyes as though he could block out reality that way. His breathing was ragged and uneven. He'd chosen the wrong person again. He wished it didn't hurt so much.

* * *

A year went by where no one was Vanitas's shield. It was something of a relief to be working on his own again with just Dante assisting here and there. He'd gone through three people in such quick succession and every single one had ended dreadfully. Vanitas had had enough; the idea had merit but it was time to cut his losses.

It was harder taking care of malnomen with just the two of them but Vanitas made up for it with enthusiasm.

"You've been different lately," Dante commented.

"How so, my dear Dante?"

"I mean _that_ ," Dante waived his hand in disgust. "The last time you pulled out the charm you were trying to convince me to work for you. Lately you've been that way all the time. What's going on?"

"Hmm, just less on my mind, I suppose." It was an honest reply surprisingly. He didn't have to pay anyone other than Dante, didn't have to spend time training anyone, didn't have to worry about them, or try to fit himself into a role he was ill suited for. It was fantastic.

"Also, if you could stop flinging yourself at every little thing that wants to kill you that would be great."

"I'm doing no such thing!"

"These plans of yours have gotten absurdly convoluted! You're going to get us both killed!"

Vanitas clucked his tongue disapprovingly. Dante glared.

"Rest assured, neither of us will be dying anytime soon. I'm quite enjoying life at the moment, you know."

"Good for you." It didn't sound like Dante was. A pity.

After Mauve he wanted to suspect Dante more thoroughly for what he was but he found he couldn't. Dante had never lied to him in such an abject manner; Vanitas had known what he was getting into the moment he hired him. Was that really where the difference lied? Would he still have Mauve if she had only told him the truth from the beginning?

No, likely not. There was so much more wrong between the two of them than just the lying. Vanitas wondered why it hadn't been obvious at the time.

His reputation as a vampire doctor was taking off though. It was something of a relief; he needed the money for one and it meant his revenge on Vanitas of the Blue Moon was progressing swifter as well.

"Got another client for you, Quack. This one's named Amelia Ruth. She sounds nervous, seems like she has some idea of what's happening to her."

He and Dante had pieced together that malnomen were becoming more and more common and vampires were _terrified._ Vanitas had to admit he wasn't sure why the number was increasing now but there were whispers of something called "Charlatan."

"She'll be on La Baleine heading for Paris. We can just wait for her."

"Wait for her, Dante? She's a curse-bearer! There's no time for that."

"Uh, so what are we going to do?"

"Obviously we'll get on La Baleine before it gets here. Really, you should know this sort of thing by now."

The plan quickly went awry. Amelia was there as expected but she was with a bizarrely talented man who was dead set on protecting her.

 _What a misguided fool._

Still, he actually gave Vanitas a challenge. He hadn't had to use his skills as a chasseur for quite some time, relying on the Book more and more instead. But when he threw Amelia straight into the air only to punch Vanitas solidly in the gut in turn and then caught her all in the span of a few seconds Vanitas knew he was dealing with no human. The eyes proved it.

So, the misguided fool was also a vampire. He was going to get himself hurt at this rate but Vanitas had warned him. He'd just have to save him from himself. The things Vanitas did for these monsters.

Ultimately, Vanitas saved Amelia and her companion. The day was won. Until the police showed up.

At some point, Vanitas had forgotten police even existed. He'd been living on his own for so long, committing various minor crimes, saving creatures most humans weren't convinced existed, that their entire organization seemed somewhat useless.

But before he could think about it a great deal he was suddenly blinded by pain and everything went black.

He woke up in the middle of a freefall with the blue moon before him and that vampire from earlier above him, clutching his ankle.

For a moment, real fear clutched at his heart. There was no way to survive something like this. Why did it have to be _that_ moon tonight? Was she mocking him even now?

But then things shifted just ever so slightly. If Vanitas hadn't been using the Book he never would have noticed but someone was altering the world formula. His eyes widened.

When they landed it was still painful but they were decidedly not dead, which Vanitas saw as a real improvement over how things could have been.

Then he felt hands grip his legs and he was being lifted up as though he were as light as a twig. Oh, yes, this man was definitely altering the formula and he was quite talented at it. Vanitas took a second to appreciate the skill that required before flipping himself right side up.

He gave a brief explanation of what he did for Amelia and immediately waited for some kind of objection. This man was a vampire and vampires hated the Book of Vanitas. It didn't matter if it was helping or hindering, they wanted it gone.

"That was phenomenal!"

Vanitas stared. He continued to marvel over the book, something about how it wasn't bad like in the stories. He was so … exuberant. Full of life. Completely different from himself.

Vanitas felt something manic building up inside him before it came out as a loud guffaw.

"What's your name?" Vanitas liked him. He was an odd one, especially for a vampire.

He hesitated for a bit, no doubt wondering if Vanitas were insane but Vanitas wasn't going to introduce himself first.

"Noé," he said at last. A charming name for an eccentric vampire. Vanitas would have loved to see what his true name was.

Suddenly, he knew. He couldn't let this man just walk away. He was incredible and he was apparently a giving sort seeing as he'd already risked his life for Vanitas's. A flicker of hope made itself known in his heart. Maybe he could try one more time.

"Lend me your strength, Noé! Great fighting power, a sturdy body… No doubt you'll make a fine 'shield!'"

"Huh? No way."

Well, that had never happened before. But that answer just wasn't acceptable at all.

Vanitas was intrigued. No, he was impressed. He'd never been the sort to just drop something once it had caught his attention either.

But Noé kept turning him down even though he followed him all over Paris. Furthermore, Noé insisted he didn't even _like_ Vanitas, which seemed a little unfair; they'd only just met. But it was also a relief. His last three shields had, for some unknown reason, enjoyed his company up until they hadn't. This fellow seemed to actually have some sense about him.

Regardless of what Noé may or may not have wanted he wound up staying with Vanitas, no doubt for what he perceived as the greater good. Even when he slammed the Book of Vanitas in his face he couldn't be upset. Noé was helping him whether he liked it or not and it was marvelous.

No, this was perfect. Noé had no interest in the Book one way or another. Or rather, he was interested in getting Vanitas to use it to save vampires. He wasn't terribly interested in Vanitas himself though. This might actually work.

Part of him wished Noé liked him just a little bit more than he seemed to; it had been nice with Dumas but then he reminded himself that Noé was a vampire and that could only end badly. Really, sleeping with a monster _again_? What was he thinking? No, a much larger part of him was relieved he wouldn't have to deal with any complications in their relationship. They would keep it professional.

Although, Noé hadn't really accepted a job and Vanitas hadn't offered to pay.

"Hey. You look like you're having trouble, Vanitas."

 _Dante._ He'd forgotten about him. He wasn't sure he was ready to introduce his latest shield yet. He didn't want Dante telling him something was wrong with his choice again. Still, the chance to rub it in a little after the hassle he'd gone through on La Baleine…

"He's stronger and sturdier than you, and he doesn't cost money!" Well, Vanitas supposed that solved the question of whether or not he'd be paying Noé. He just wouldn't. Noé wanted to save Amelia, which meant he probably just wanted to save vampires more generally and wouldn't need extra incentive. Perfect.

"How do you like that, Dante? Unlike you, he's the perfect partner!"

Noé made some kind of protest there but Vanitas wasn't listening. Dante was giving him a thoroughly irritated look that spoke volumes of what he thought of Vanitas's latest outburst.

"Just when I'd figured out where the "Nine-fold Murderer" is and come to find you. Yeah, it's a real shame!"

Oh, so that's how it was going to be. Actually, Vanitas did need that information. Blast it all…

"Master Dante, I love you! Splendid fellow! I knew you could do it! You're so incredibly cool!"

"Let go! You're freaking me out and your new "shield" to boot, you idiot," Dante grumbled. Vanitas looked over his shoulder from where he'd prostrated himself. Noé did look a tad annoyed. Really, there was no pleasing either of them it seemed. He stood up and brushed himself off. Dante glanced him over and Vanitas frowned. He didn't need his concern already. Honestly, they'd talked about this before.

"Anyway, just follow this bat."

"It will be faster to go over the top," Noé said consideringly.

"Huh?" And suddenly a strong arm was looped about his waist and he was flying. A rush of terror filled him for one brief moment but when it became clear Noé wasn't about to drop him he took in the sights. Oh, this was wonderful. When was the last time he'd ever felt so free?

Shortly after their rooftop adventure he met Jeanne the Hellfire Witch.

Dante was going to skin him alive whenever he had a free moment for what ensued.

"Marry me, and be mine!" Vanitas had never tried being in love before but this heady sensation of power, the knowledge that he had _won,_ surely that's what love was? And she would never reciprocate! She would never take advantage of him because she hated him! It sent a shiver of desire down his spine. He was wildly underclassed here and yet he was the one with the power. He had never been in this position with a vampire before.

Knowing that Vanitas of the Blue Moon had adored her made it all the more intense. Yes, this would be an excellent revenge against her. He would finally be the one in charge of one of his relationships as opposed to initiating and then letting them sort it all out.

"Are you nuts?!" Dante shrieked. Quite possibly but Vanitas didn't care.

"Next time, I'll kill you! I'll come to kill you, I swear it!"

What an attractive woman. Yellow eyes, strawberry blonde hair, and she could wipe out half the street without even thinking about it if she truly wished to. He wanted to see that Jeanne. He wanted to see what Vanitas of the Blue Moon had seen in her.

After the business with Amelia was sorted out, Noé still stayed. Vanitas wondered if he had misgivings about it or not, particularly after the debacle with Jeanne, but Orlok was providing them with room and board and Noé would have to be a fool to turn that kind of thing down. Hotel Chou Chou was not a cheap place to live. It was infinitely better than all the places Vanitas had been staying at for the last three years.

"It's very kind of Orlok to provide a room for us," Noé said when they were given the key. It shone in the lighting and was likely made of copper. Vanitas followed him into the elevator.

"Hm? Oh, I suppose so. He rather has to though. We're working for him now."

"Where did you live before?" Vanitas kept his face carefully neutral. He hoped Noé wasn't as much a busybody as Dumas.

"Here and there."

Noé hummed consideringly. The elevator let out a soft _ding_ and they walked together down the hallway.

"What about you then?" Vanitas could pry just as well if not better than Noé ever could. His stamina for pestering people was evidenced by Noé's presence at his side right now.

"Oh! I lived in Averoigne." Vanitas had never heard of it. He supposed it was someplace in Altus.

"I think this is our room," Noé pointed.

"Well, give the key a try then." Vanitas wasn't tired exactly but he was ready for the day to be over. It had been a long one. He'd overexerted himself in every way possible.

The room itself wasn't decadent by any stretch of the imagination. In fact, it was rather small to be fitting two people. Vanitas's face scrunched in consternation but Noé seemed thrilled.

"Oh, it has everything we need! There's even a desk." Noé meandered about the place, his cat close at his heels before sitting on the bed near the window. "Do you mind if I take this one? I like to look out at the moon." Vanitas had no interest in the moon.

"Be my guest. I doubt I'll be in here much."

"I see." Noé frowned softly. Vanitas waited for him to ask why not but the question never came. It left him strangely disappointed.

"It's just a little small, don't you think? Orlok is being miserly." Why he was compelled to explain this to him was unknown. But seeing Noé's face marred by contemplation was frustrating.

"Really? I guess I wouldn't know. I've never been in a city before."

Vanitas rolled his eyes and sat down on the bed across from him. "I never would have guessed." Noé must have lived in small quarters to think this was an acceptable arrangement or maybe he grew up around a lot of people.

Noé ignored the jab and began getting his things out of his luggage. He placed a shirt in the closet and then took out his nightgown. When he started undressing Vanitas looked away. Honestly, who did that so freely?

"Vanitas?"

"Hmm?" He chanced a look. Noé was now in his nightgown, fully dressed.

"Do you think Mademoiselle Amelia will be all right here? Will it be decent work?"

Vanitas shrugged. He didn't really care one way or another. Once he saved a vampire he was done with them. He didn't care much to spend time with them. He frowned. That wasn't really true now given his current company and what he'd pushed on Jeanne earlier.

He considered that for a moment. He'd never worked with a full-blooded vampire before. The closest he'd ever gotten was Dante. He didn't count Vanitas of the Blue Moon. It had hardly been an equitable arrangement.

Noé would be harder to control than his previous shields. He'd never even really agreed to be his shield. What should he expect from him? He was obviously stronger than Vanitas physically but he was also infinitely more polite as well. He was comfortable in his own skin in a way Vanitas never would be and he hadn't undressed to seduce him. He said he didn't like him but he didn't push him away now that they were living together. Noé was a conundrum.

Well, he was surely a nobody and that made Vanitas feel a little bit better. He was just a country bumpkin with an idealistic worldview that could get him into trouble if he wasn't careful.

 _He's working with me, he's already in trouble._

Vanitas would just exercise a little extra caution both for his own safety and Noé's.

Noé was proving to be a strange mix of Bastien, Dumas, and Mauve though, and Vanitas wasn't sure he liked it. He had Bastien's innocence, which elicited a strange desire in Vanitas to protect him even though he clearly didn't need it. He had Dumas's charisma and looks. Vanitas ignored it. He had Mauve's talent in combat. Hopefully he wasn't as skilled a liar. Vanitas didn't want to deal with that a second time. Briefly, he wondered why a country bumpkin would need to know self-defense like that in the first place.

Noé let out a yawn. Vanitas started. How long had he been staring off at nothing?

"I'm going to go to bed. I'll see you in the morning?" It was almost hesitant though Vanitas had no idea why. Wouldn't he have been relieved for Vanitas to be gone?

"I like to go outside at night but I'll be back."

Noé wasn't a lover, so he didn't have to be there when he woke up nor was he a child who needed to be reassured he hadn't been abandoned. Vanitas was still free to roam the rooftops of Paris at night to his heart's content.

Really, Noé was about as close to perfection as a living being could get. That train of thought brought to mind Moreau's obsession with the perfection of vampires and his good mood soured immediately. He barely slept at all that night, preferring to wander Paris until the city lights became nothing more than a blur.

* * *

What followed next made for a jarring day. Noé was more than he seemed and in all the least pleasant ways possible.

"Why don't you take a look? Noé Archiviste."

Vanitas's blood ran cold. Oh, no, anything but that.

 _An Archiviste? No, no, no, that is unacceptable. He can't be like_ her.

But he hadn't tried to drink Vanitas's blood at all. He'd even tried to get rid of Vanitas! Vanitas was the one that had forced himself into Noé's life. It took a great effort of will but Vanitas managed to stamp down on his desire to physically throw Noé out of Hotel Chou Chou and out of his life for good.

 _How could he keep that from me?_

No. They were no one to each other. He hadn't slept with Noé, hadn't told him anything of great import, he barely knew him. Noé didn't have to tell him anything just like Vanitas didn't owe him any explanations. He hadn't lied, exactly, just … omitted a few things.

 _Isn't that what Mauve did?_

Noé wasn't smuggling slaves like her. He could still make this work. It might even be to his advantage.

He carefully relaxed his facial muscles, wiping the glare off his face. He didn't offer to comfort Noé though, regardless of how much seeing Amelia's memories hurt him. It served him right for having such a monstrous ability in the first place.

All right, so Noé wasn't a nobody. He descended from _that_ clan of vampires. Vanitas could live with that provided Noé didn't think he would ever gain access to Vanitas's memories, as long as he didn't betray him. Vanitas felt nauseous. It shouldn't matter this much.

Then a de Sade was dragging Noé away and his nausea was replaced with fury. Noé was _his_ even if he was an Archiviste. Finders, keepers. She had no right to just whisk him away.

Was it childish? Dante probably would have said so but what did Dante know about anything?

So he raced ahead to catch up, ignoring the gasps of surprise from Orlok's office, and leapt across the border. He never worried for a moment. He'd seen enough of Noé to know he'd be fine. There was a thrill there too; if Noé did miss, what would happen to him? He wondered if the border could provide sweet oblivion.

Noé's concern was harsh and utterly adorable. His eyes flashed from that dark purple to bioluminescent red. Vanitas was pleased to see he could make an impression.

Dominique eyed him suspiciously but there was curiosity there too. He told her he'd followed because she'd been trying to separate them. She had an annoyingly understanding look on her face.

Despite her obvious suspicions toward him she told him a bit about Noé. Perhaps she thought if he knew something about the vampire he'd be less likely to take advantage.

Noé was an orphan who had been sold on the black market to The Shapeless One.

How many times was he going to have to readjust his image of one person in a single night? He tried to ignore the stab of guilt about the black market. Noé didn't need to know about his utter failure in that regard last year.

Later on, as he listened to Noé and Dominique talking in the carriage, he wondered when he'd become so convinced Noé would just take care of things. He really could have died if he hadn't been careful. He'd learned Noé was everything he hated only moments before he'd flung himself at him: a vampire, an Archiviste, and arguably a noble. But even so, he couldn't find it in himself to be dissuaded in his opinion that while Noé was a monster he was also fundamentally good.

This sentimentality was going to get him killed.

"Do you want to drink my blood, Noé?"

There was a pause there. Vanitas held his breath, not wanting to miss whatever the answer was.

"Yes, Domi. I want your blood."

Vanitas breathed out slowly. Well, surely that just wasn't true. Why would Noé desire someone like Dominique's blood? She was arrogant, self-serving, and bossy. Dante would have said that was the pot calling the kettle black but Dante liked to say a lot of things.

Regardless, Noé was obviously longing for someone else, someone who was no longer available.

He mused over who it might be. Someone from his childhood, perhaps? Or maybe an ex-lover, although Noé didn't seem the type.

Idly, he wondered what it would be like to have Noé drink his own blood. Would it be different from before? Would Noé be as careful as he was surely being toward his lady companion? Supposedly it could be a pleasant experience though Vanitas had yet to see any evidence of that. Dominique didn't seem to be in any pain though, judging by the lack of horrified screams emanating from the carriage. Maybe it was different if both parties were vampires.

Or perhaps Noé was just a gentleman. A gentle-vampire. His lips quirked up at the thought. A pity he'd never get to find out; no Archiviste would taste his blood ever again.

Later at the party he got his answer with Jeanne. It _hurt_ just like it always did. But Jeanne could very well be a curse-bearer, which would skew the results of that particular experiment.

Still, it was bearable if only because he was the one initiating it. Jeanne would be in his debt now and you could never have too many people owing you a favor.

Unfortunately, the rest of the party was something of a disaster. Noé nearly died.

 _Noé nearly died._

It was so far from acceptable that Vanitas didn't even know what to do with himself.

He sat at his bedside, studying Noé's features. He was an attractive vampire but now that he knew he was an Archiviste his features made him a touch wary.

He rubbed at his neck. He'd inspected it and seen that Jeanne had marked him just like _she_ had marked him. He felt … strange. He had told her she could take his blood, so he was in control. Right? Then why was he the one still being treated like prey?

He supposed it was a pretty mark but so was Vanitas of the Blue Moon's. It was pretty the way poisonous reptiles were; it was a sign to back off. He'd wanted to see the real Jeanne, the Jeanne Vanitas of the Blue Moon had loved but he hadn't expected to end up like this.

He felt hollow about the whole thing. There was nothing to be done about the mark. He'd just have to find some way to spin it to his advantage. His stomach lurched uncomfortably. Better to focus on Noé.

What to do with him? He couldn't keep Noé around. He was too ready to play the martyr. Vanitas wouldn't have any more death on his conscience and he wouldn't keep an Archiviste at his side. His mind was made up.

Apparently, Noé's was as well.

"I've decided I'm staying with you, Vanitas."

The warmth of Noé's hand seeped through his glove and his eyes sparkled with determination. Noé had seen through him, dug out his secrets and exposed them to daylight, and he'd barely even tried. Despite all of that, Noé was staying.

Vanitas had no idea what to do. He fought for words but all he managed was an unsure grin.

"Do as you like."

It was so much more than someone like him deserved.

Afterward there was a brief interlude where he got to tease Jeanne a bit. Oh, she was mortified about the mark. It made him feel marginally better to be in possession of it. She made this far too easy. He even extracted a promise from her: she could only have his blood.

She bit down on his neck again. It was excruciating but there was a part of him that delighted in it all the same. She _needed_ him unlike everyone who had left him before.

He'd have to cure her eventually but until then… They could have this.

* * *

"So, what is it you like about this one?" Dante asked after he'd recovered from his little bout with Ruthven. He sounded a little wary. Vanitas supposed Dante had reason to be. His fourth shield was a fair amount different from the last three.

"He's a skilled fighter. He's also an excellent dancer." He made a mental note that somewhere along the line Noé must have been taught to dance by a man. He'd assumed the woman's role with a surprising amount of ease despite his height. "He doesn't even need to be paid."

"You mentioned. So, he's a friend then."

Vanitas's eyes strayed away from Dante, taking in their surroundings. Dante seemed convinced that Vanitas's need for a shield was a shallow attempt at masking a desire for companionship. Dante could think whatever he wanted.

"Don't be ridiculous. I'm quite sure this time: someone like him would never care for someone like me. He's … perfect."

Dante heaved a deep sigh as though all his world weariness could leave him through that one gesture. Vanitas wondered what he had to be fed up with when it was Vanitas putting up with all of his annoying tendencies.

"So, the two of you aren't, you know…"

Vanitas took a long sip of tea. "No, we're not."

"You shouldn't pursue it with Jeanne either."

"I don't recall asking you about Jeanne." Dante eyed him carefully as he chewed on a lollipop with more aggression than was strictly necessary.

"How long do you expect this one to last?"

"Hm?"

"You know what I'm asking. Don't play dumb."

Vanitas did, in fact, know what Dante was getting at. _Are you going to drive Noé away, too? Are you going to let him only so close before he steps out of line and he has to leave? Or will he just have to die?_

"We'll see how things go."

Vanitas thought back to their conversation on the tower. Noé did step out of line. In fact, Noé made it very clear he had "no intention of doing what Vanitas says." Vanitas had pulled out all the stops; he'd said he couldn't take it, called Noé naïve, lunged at him with a dagger, but Noé just acted like this was a regular occurrence barely worth a footnote in his journal. Surely, that wasn't normal behavior.

And yet Vanitas felt his chest lighten. He could breathe easier. Noé was staying.

Noé didn't fit the description of his perfect shield. He wasn't obedient, he was decidedly nosy, never listened to a single thing Vanitas said, had a bad habit of using Vanitas as a _projectile_ of all things, and yet he also kept a respectful distance, was always kind in speech, gave Vanitas space when it was necessary, and was an absurdly talented fighter.

Noé was a paradox for sure. He wondered if he realized it.

Noé was becoming disturbingly good at predicting him though. He followed him all the way into the catacombs of Paris. He could have shooed him away, could have done any number of things but he would almost certainly be facing Moreau and Noé being there made him feel safer.

It turned out it was a good thing Noé came with. Vanitas was so tired throughout that it was frankly a miracle he was moving at all.

Roland was especially trying. He had to be the most chipper chasseur paladin he'd ever met and he'd met a lot of chasseurs.

Moreau had been exactly what he'd anticipated. He hadn't expected to hear Misha's number though and that was plain foolish. He should have braced himself for that. It was an obvious source of pain, so of course Moreau would take advantage of it, assuming he had any idea of what happened to him in the first place.

It hurt. Thoughts of Misha inevitably led to thoughts of Bastien as well, which led to him wondering if keeping Noé around was wise. He might lose him entirely someday. Wouldn't it be better to force him away than have to watch him die?

But he'd only survived _because_ Noé was with him. He was in over his head to such a degree he'd probably be dead before the year was up. He couldn't afford to send Noé away. Grudgingly, he was forced to admit he didn't want Noé to leave anyway.

He knew more about him than any living person in existence now and he wasn't judging or pushing him to discuss it further. Vanitas leaned against his back, marveling at how warm he was and how soothing it was to have him there when his limbs felt like lead. Vanitas never wanted to move.

He didn't know how long they stayed there. He'd fallen asleep almost immediately.

* * *

Eventually he felt something stir against him. He could hear birds. That wasn't too strange, he often slept outside, but there seemed to be someone else with him, which was.

Vanitas groaned softly. Everything hurt but his head hurt the most.

Someone shushed him gently. That was extremely odd.

He forced his eyes open and was met with Noé's face looking down at him. Vanitas appeared to be leaning against his chest. He didn't remember shifting to this position.

"We've been out here an hour. I know you're tired, so I'm going to get us home where you can sleep properly."

"I don't want to move," Vanitas said.

Noé smiled gently. His eyes were looking at him with a tenderness Vanitas had never seen aimed at him before. He must be hallucinating.

"Don't worry, I'll carry you back."

"Not like that," Vanitas said, starting to feel a smidgeon more awake but nowhere near being able to actually move.

"Not like that?"

"Like a sack of potatoes," Vanitas mumbled. "It would hurt."

Noé let out a huff of laughter.

"I'll carry you differently then."

"Good."

"Wrap your arms around my neck." Vanitas was too tired to argue, so he circled them about him as requested and buried his face in the crook of his neck. It helped block out the sunlight. Noé carefully scooped him up and they were off.

Vanitas was asleep again before they even got to the hotel.

* * *

He stirred softly. He was wrapped in something soft and warm. Blankets, his mind supplied. That was different from how he usually woke up. It felt _wonderful._ Why had he insisted on sleeping outside again? Who cared if he shared a room with Noé? He already tolerated everything about Vanitas, so it would hardly make a difference.

He cracked his eyes open. It was night. Noé was sleeping in his own bed, tossing and turning. Vanitas had known loosely that he had trouble sleeping judging by how often he'd fallen out of the bed in the morning but this was the first time he'd seen it firsthand.

There was a sudden crash. Murr jumped before settling back into the chair.

So, Noé had fallen out of bed after all.

Feeling unusually magnanimous after recent events Vanitas carefully crouched over him and rested a hand on his shoulder. He longed to return to the comfort of his own blankets but he couldn't very well just leave him here.

"It's all right, Noé. It's just a dream." He tried to sound reassuring but he was all too familiar with night terrors. Sometimes they weren't dreams so much as memories and those were always the worst. Noé mumbled something unintelligible and suddenly a pair of arms circled around him and he found himself on the floor with his head held snugly to Noé's chest.

"H-hey, just a second, what are you doing? Noé! Wake up right now!" His felt his face heat up. He hadn't been held like this in … ages. Maybe never.

"Mm, Vanitas?" Noé's eyes were clouded with sleep. "Why are you in my bed?"

"I'm not in your bed. We are on the floor." Noé's brow crinkled in confusion.

"You fell out. I came over to wake you up. You turned me into a hug pillow." He was pouting now and it was unbecoming but he couldn't stop.

"Oh," Noé said. He didn't let go. "Vanitas…"

"What? Why am I still here?"

"You smell nice."

"I—" Now Vanitas's face really was red. Those eyes were fixed on him steadily and they had shifted to a soft, glowing crimson. Well, then.

Noé was tired. He wasn't thinking clearly. That was all. Vanitas's heart was thumping loudly in his chest though and he cursed it for doing so. That was certain to make his scent stronger.

"Noé, I'd like to return to my own bed now if you don't mind."

"Oh!" Noé blinked rapidly, his eyes returning to the usual purple. He'd finally realized where they were. He let go and sat up.

"You're awake! I was worried you might have a concussion but you seemed all right, which is lucky all things considered."

Vanitas felt at the bandage around his forehead. "This was you then?"

Noé nodded in affirmation. It was like nothing had happened. It was enough to give Vanitas whiplash.

"I should be fine by tomorrow. It wasn't a terrible head wound," Vanitas muttered.

"You were asleep for two days already. I was getting worried."

Two days?

"You let me sleep that long? Wait, how did you know I didn't have a concussion?" Vanitas really should have thought of that before he'd fallen asleep on Noé's back in the first place. He was the one who kept insisting on calling himself a doctor. The least he could do was actually act like one.

"I went out to get a doctor after bandaging you up, of course."

"You let someone else touch me?" A doctor being treated by another doctor? Vanitas inwardly cringed. What had they seen? It was bad enough for Noé to be poking and prodding at him while he was unconscious but a stranger? Unthinkable.

"I just had him look at your head. I figured you wouldn't want him doing anything else."

It didn't look like anyone had changed his clothes or done anything to him outside of wrap a bandage about his head. He relaxed minutely. If this doctor had only been called in to ensure he didn't have a concussion that was bearable. "You promise?"

"I promise."

Vanitas believed him.

"We should get back to bed then." Vanitas didn't want to keep thinking about this. He was tired, which was unusual for him but he was in no mood to fight against it.

"You're still tired? You need to get on a better schedule."

Vanitas didn't pay that any mind. He'd sleep when he wanted and endure endless hours of insomnia when he wanted, too.

* * *

Then there was the question. It was awkwardly phrased but it was undeniable.

Ever since that night Vanitas knew it would be broached at some point. He just hadn't expected it to be so sudden; it had come completely out of nowhere. It was as though Vanitas's dash across Paris in a mad attempt to save Noé from Ruthven had sparked some sort of renewed interest in his person. Vanitas supposed he had exerted himself quite a bit and he'd just shared an intimate moment with Jeanne. Would that have made his scent stronger than normal?

But vampires liked his blood. He didn't know why but he'd accepted it as some kind of curse at this point, and while he tried to ignore it Noé was still a vampire, no matter how noble spirited he may be. Monsters hungered for Vanitas. Noé was just a softer monster than most.

He wished he could believe that. It would make it easier to avoid the temptation to just say "yes." Some assuredly masochistic part of him wanted to let Noé drink his blood, wanted to see what it would feel like to be held in his arms, to feel his lips on his neck, touch the warmth of his skin. Why he wanted this vampire to drink his blood so badly confused him. With Jeanne it was part of a game, it was his attempt at "love." But Noé? What was Noé to him? Was he just curious? If so, he really needed to rein that in better than he'd been doing lately. His curiosity was getting him into all kinds of trouble.

Vanitas was stern in his wording both for Noé and especially for himself. Noé looked crushed. That, more than anything else, filled Vanitas with a white-hot fury. What right did he have to feel disappointment? He should be grateful Vanitas hadn't sent him packing the second he'd asked in the first place. Vanitas owed him nothing.

He slammed the window behind him.

A couple minutes later he heard footsteps behind him on the roof.

"I told you, Noé, the answer is _no._ "

"Uh, it's actually me, Quack."

Vanitas spun around. Right, Dante had been there to witness that entire exchange.

"What is it now, Baldy?" Vanitas needed a new insult. Baldy wasn't cutting it and the curse was taking too long to have any effect.

"I just … are you okay?"

As if he could be. Once again Dante was seeing him at his worst. "Why are you still here?"

Dante let out a loud _tsk_ , his eyes a storm.

"This isn't my fault," Vanitas said defensively. Why was he _looking_ at him like that?

"Right. Well, I've delivered the information, so I'm going to head out." He eyed Vanitas expectantly.

Vanitas stared back stonily. They remained that way until Dante finally rolled his eyes and gestured at Vanitas's pocket. Oh, money. Right, he paid Dante unlike Noé. He'd gotten used to having someone who just … did things for him for no discernible reason. Vanitas huffed in irritation and handed over the correct sum.

"Thanks, Quack. Good doing business with you." Dante paused as he turned away, some inner battle waging inside him. He seemed to reach a decision when he eyed Vanitas one last time.

"Word of advice for free: if you're going to cut ties with him, do it now. That Noé fellow seems a bit thick but that was, uh, a pretty strong statement back there." He didn't clarify whether he meant Noé's or Vanitas's. "It's not a desire that's just going to go away, you know. Noé's a good guy, so I don't think he'd ever act on it but I know you're kind of particular about that kind of thing."

"I don't need you giving me your opinion on every single person I pick out as a shield." The words were sharp but his vision was a little hazy around the edges. He was so wrapped up in his own thoughts that he was only partially listening to Dante. Still, his words echoed what Vanitas himself was thinking. Noé was attracted to the scent of his blood. He hadn't phrased it that way but Vanitas could read between the lines. He'd seen what that attraction had brought before. His right arm ached slightly. Noé wasn't supposed to like anything about him; he'd _said_ he didn't like him. That had been fine. That had been _safe._

Why did everything always go wrong? He should have known the second he met Noé that things wouldn't be simple; things were never simple for him. Why had he purposefully brought a vampire into his life?

"I don't know. I've been trying to figure that out myself," Dante sighed. Vanitas blinked. Had he said that out loud?

"So, why do you think?"

Vanitas shouldn't answer. Dante's entire job revolved around knowing secrets. He'd learned something from Mauve after all.

"That's none of your business."

"It's because he's perfect, right?" Dante smiled bitterly. Vanitas had actually told him that. Why had he told him that? Did Vanitas really believe it? No one was perfect; Noé was still a monster. But, Vanitas was forced to consider for the first time, wasn't he less of a monster than Vanitas himself? His heart clenched painfully.

"Just a figure of speech." He didn't meet Dante's eyes.

"See you around, Quack." His voice was gentle, gentler than Vanitas had ever heard it. Great, now Dante of all people pitied him.

Vanitas walked the entire night away.

* * *

For some reason, Noé was still there when he got back. He wore a dour frown. _If he thinks I'm apologizing he can just leave._ Why was he even still there? And all packed up!

Instead, Noé offered his own apology. It was actually a decent one as well, delivered in the same polite, warm tones Noé always used. He was always so consistent, always so good to have around. Vanitas wanted to scream. Noé got away with everything around him and Vanitas couldn't bear to hold a grudge. It was absurd.

They settled into their seats on the train. They had some privacy but not a great deal. Vanitas did enjoy how wide the windows were, however.

"You won't … leave while I'm sleeping…?"

He was horrendously endearing on occasion. His eyes were lidded, his face was flushed, and his voice sounded exhausted. As if Vanitas could ever leave him like this. His heart sank. He might actually be in trouble. He'd criticized Jeanne mercilessly for forming an attachment but could he have formed such a thing himself? Noé had stayed up all night just because he was worried Vanitas would leave him. In fairness, it was the kind of thing Vanitas would have done in the past. By all accounts, it's what he should be doing now. He'd been tempted. But he hadn't wanted to. Not really.

 _I don't want this. I don't want you looking at me that way, like I'm worth a second thought…._ Noé had fallen asleep. Murr was curled in his lap, scowling as it took in its surroundings. Noé had forgotten to take his hat off.

Heaving a long-suffering sigh Vanitas reached over to remove it. It was a stylish hat; Vanitas wondered if Noé had chosen it himself or if Dominique had. It seemed like something she would like. It was made of a smooth material, that much Vanitas could tell even with his gloves on. He placed it carefully at Noé's side. Murr eyed it curiously.

He was going to return to his seat but Noé's bangs had fallen in front of his face. Idly, he adjusted them, so they wouldn't cover his eyes so much. While he couldn't see them now, he'd often privately marveled at how expressive Noé's face could be, especially his eyes. If Vanitas had been closer to Noé's face when they first met or if he'd just been paying attention he wouldn't have had to ask "What are you?" He would have known he wasn't dealing with a human.

So much about a vampire came down to their eyes and, he had learned, their scent though Vanitas was incapable of smelling it himself. While a vampire's eyes were a dead giveaway to anyone, their scent was even more so between vampires. It allowed them to identify fellow vampires and distinguish between human and dhampir. It made them eerily effective at hunting humans during the war.

It was no surprise then that scent was part of what informed a vampire's opinion on an individual. Whether Noé acknowledged it or not, and Vanitas was unclear on how much Noé knew about his own people, saying he enjoyed Vanitas's scent and that he desired to drink his blood was either a blatant come on, an unusually forward request for friendship, or it marked the beginning of a hunt—a desire for ownership.

Vanitas had a hard time believing Noé intended any of those messages in his request and it left Vanitas all the more conflicted. If Noé fell into a more obvious category of vampire, something he'd dealt with before, he'd have some idea of what he was dealing with.

Jeanne wanted his blood for survival. It was far from overt but she had claimed ownership of him regardless of how much she detested it. Vanitas knew this and as such he could maintain power over her. Vanitas of the Blood Moon had desired ownership as well but there was no room for manipulation with her; she'd had too strong a will and no respect for boundaries.

Noé was too respectful of Vanitas's space to be staking a claim on his blood. He'd said he disliked him, so he was unlikely to be requesting friendship. Vanitas supposed that left the possibility of Noé wanting a sexual relationship. They didn't have to like each other for that. But it didn't ring true. Noé was far too caring an individual to ever reduce someone to their body. The whole conundrum left Vanitas feeling frustrated and twitchy. Could Noé have simply been … hungry? Vanitas had simply been the most appetizing morsel at the time?

He found he didn't much like that option either. He wasn't _food._ He was forced to admit that Noé was probably oblivious enough to think it was perfectly acceptable to simply desire someone's blood for no reason in particular. Vanitas still hadn't figured out what Noé thought his relationship with Dominique was. Dominique obviously held feelings for Noé; she had an awareness of what drinking blood actually meant to vampires and yet she let Noé bumble about. Vanitas wondered if he'd have to be the one to teach basic blood sucking etiquette to a vampire. It would figure.

There were no answers to be had with Noé still sleeping however. So what did Vanitas want it to mean, this sudden desire for his blood? Did he want Noé to be a monster as he surely must be? Did he want proof that this well-meaning individual could still desire to dominate, to mark someone as his own?

But the thought made him queasy and he was forced to acknowledge that he would much rather see his own pessimism proven wrong for once.

Friendship? Perhaps. Dante seemed to think that's what they were. Maybe someday.

Lovers? The thought pained him. Surely Noé would never love him; no one like that would ever love someone like him. But did Vanitas want to love Noé the way he did Jeanne?

No, that seemed wrong, too.

What was Noé to him then?

The answer was immediate: _Irreplaceable._

And that was terrifying. He used to think of himself as working on his own in the future. There was never anyone there. But when he thought of it now he took it as a given that Noé would be with him.

Vanitas gently moved his hand to cup Noé's chin and tilted it upwards ever so slightly. There was no need to be too grabby. He didn't stir. He really did sleep like a log sometimes. Vanitas could feel his breath on his face, deep and relaxed.

"You can't leave me either, Noé. Don't think for a moment you can." If Vanitas was stuck at Noé's side, a place he had never intended to be, Noé had best return the favor. A brief smile fluttered across Noé's face and he mumbled something before falling into an even deeper slumber.

Vanitas's heart was racing. He felt clammy as a thrill raced up his spine. It was like catching a cold but softer, warmer. With the utmost care Vanitas leaned forward to press a kiss to the side of his mouth. Maybe someday they could do so properly.

The rest of the train ride continued in silence with Noé lost to his dreams and Vanitas lost to his thoughts. Trees raced past them and the air grew starker in its chill. Vanitas began to shiver but he'd had a revelation.

 _I could love you someday._ Vanitas didn't know if he could bear it.

* * *

 **Notes:** Ahh, I feel bad about Bastien. I might have to use him in some other VNC story someday. Also, for those who are curious, the loose timeline I used for this story was that Vanitas had Bastien from Nov.-Feb., Dumas from Feb.-March, and Mauve from April-June. He met Noé in July of the following year. If you notice any glaring errors in the story, please let me know!


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